Porcupine Ridge you only live forever in the lights you make

The mountains drew him in more as of late, and he took comfort in the solitude they offered. Few dared climb to the places he enjoyed most; Cortland had become more adept at it, less prone to falls. Certainly not invulnerable, but more nimble than he had been before. It was well worth the risk to him, anyway. Most days he happened upon something interesting— some days, he discovered something amazing.
Today he was enchanted by the Ridge. Among the crooked razor-edged peaks were pockets of life, and he was determined to reach one. The stone was smooth and sloping, making his footing unsteady at best. Cortland worked his way up slowly to the lone path he had spotted. It was a treacherous climb, to say the least, but the sunset-furred boy was certain he was up to the task. Right up until something came loose under his paw.
A piece of rock had become dislodged beneath him, and his paw rolled with it. A slight gasp escaped him at the feeling, but more pressing was the sudden awareness that he was falling. Eyes wide, all he saw was the sky, and all he felt was wind through his fur for a moment. Then he hit stone again. Cortland rolled the rest of the way down, feeling the harsh impact of the mountain peak against his body on all sides. By the time he hit the grass below, everything had gone black.